


Opera d'arte

by thegingermidget



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Champagne, F/F, Fingering, Kissing in Evening Gowns, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegingermidget/pseuds/thegingermidget
Summary: The team has a lead on where Villanelle will strike next, so Eve attends an opera in Italy to gather intelligence. The night does and does not go according to plan.





	Opera d'arte

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! You can find me on twitter [@a_ginger_midget](https://twitter.com/a_ginger_midget) and on tumblr [@keep-on-leggin](https://keep-on-leggin.tumblr.com/)

Eve had never been one for the opera. The music seemed inaccessible, she didn’t speak Italian or German and the crowd it attracted seemed too elite for someone like her. It had never interested her enough for her to seek it out on her own. She was perfectly happy to spend her Saturday nights watching TV on the couch rather than bored to death in a theater. 

Dressed to the nines and with a glass of champagne in her, she was feeling a bit differently. 

The people were just as snobbish as she had anticipated. The black-tie dress code saw the men decked out in stylishly tailored suits and the women in elegant gem colored gowns. Eve, herself, wore a cream-colored satin dress that performed the dual function of making her feel incredible and allowing her to blend in. 

She was alone tonight. Kenny was watching on security feeds from a remote location and Elena was held back by the flu. Eve felt a bit sorry to leave her behind. Elena had been looking forward to getting dressed up for days, ever since they had figured out who Villanelle’s next target was going to be. Elena had the dress picked out and had thought about getting her hair done for the occasion. Nausea, aches, and feverish shivers almost failed to keep her in bed. 

For weeks now, they had been getting closer and closer to predicting who Villanelle’s next target was going to be. Unfortunately, their lack of success so far had led to the untimely deaths of three high profile individuals. Tonight though, it felt like their luck was going to change. 

Antoni Fidanza was an up-and-coming fashion designer in Milan whose father was a lower ranked mafioso in an Italian crime ring. As far as a cursory background investigation went, Antoni was completely uninvolved in his father’s criminal activity. With his newfound success, however, that seemed likely to change. 

When Kenny had finally intercepted a coded message for Villanelle and deciphered it before the kill was meant to take place, they had all been a bit dubious as to whether Antoni was really meant to be the target. He was nowhere near as dangerous or influential as any of the other people Villanelle had assassinated. He lived a quiet life with his boyfriend and their dog in Milan, jet-setting to Paris, London, and Barcelona on weekends for business, vacationing in Mykonos in the summer. Kenny had been certain that he had finally gotten it right though, and Eve knew better than to doubt him.

That faith was why she had consented to all of tonight’s pageantry. Eve didn’t normally spend so much time getting ready, even for parties. When she did put extra effort into her appearance, she always dressed for comfort. Elena’s dizziness made it so that she could hardly stand on her own but she had insisted on doing Eve’s makeup. Now, waiting to be let into the theater, Eve’s feet already hurt from standing in these incredibly uncomfortable but very stylish pumps, possibly the only item in her closet that fell into the narrow category of things that Eve owned and things that Elena wanted to borrow. 

Eve scanned the room, champagne flute in hand. The theater doors had not yet opened and the audience milled about in the lobby, chatting and sneaking surreptitious glances around them to see who else was here tonight, who they were with, and what they were wearing. Eve attempted to do the same, though no one wanted to talk to her and she really didn’t care about what anyone was wearing. She was on the lookout for two people, one of whom she had already spotted. The other had yet to show, but Eve was feeling confident that she would try to make her entrance as subtle as possible. 

Antoni Fidanza had been unable to keep his arrival discreet. All eyes turned to him when he entered with one of his models on his arm and a security guard hired by his father. His suit and the dress worn by his guest for the evening had clearly been designed by himself. They featured the delicate gossamer fabrics and elaborate embroidery his collections were known for. Neither of them shied away from the spotlight. Antoni even insisted the girl give a twirl to show off the fabulous skirt on the dress, that seemed to defy gravity even as it swept across the floor. The girl smiled bashfully when that display was greeted with applause. 

The doors to the theater opened promptly ten minutes before the showtime. Everyone slowly made their way inside while Eve lingered. She had so many questions about the way Villanelle operated. If she was in her place, Eve thought she might have tried to get in early to set up her position and prepare. Whereas it was starting to look like the assassin might not make it inside before the house lights went down.

Eve waited for as long as she could. An usher was eyeing her, unsure whether he should come over and help. She put him out of his misery by making her way over and showing him her ticket. He happily told her where she could find her seat. 

She had booked this seat with the intention of watching Antoni Fidanza throughout the performance. The three of them back in London had debated where she should sit before deciding on the final location. Should she sit in the box next to him? Should she sit as far away as possible while still being able to see him? In the end, Eve’s box was located one floor below Antoni’s and about five boxes to the left. The curve of the theater allowed her to appear as though she was watching what was happening on stage while she was really looking out for Antoni. The fashion designer had prime seats, directly in the center of the arc around the stage. 

Eve wondered where Villanelle would sit in relation to her target. Right next door seemed too obvious for an assassin, but then it was very likely that Eve was the only person expecting a murder to take place. Antoni didn’t have too much cause to fear for his own life, especially with the bodyguard Eve hadn’t known to expect. 

The seat beside her, reserved for Elena, sat unfilled beside her. Eve wasn’t entirely certain that she wasn’t a little bit grateful that the other woman had been unable to come. Her presence might have put Eve at ease out in the lobby, where stylish people mingled and generally either ignored her or gave her sidelong glances. In here though, in the hush of the theater, she thought Elena might have distracted her from the reason she was here in the first place. Eve regretted even thinking that. Elena only ever tried to be helpful, but Eve had come to accept the fact that everything was different when it came to Villanelle. 

The empty seat beside her helped Eve hone in on Villanelle. It put her in the mindset of her pet assassin. Villanelle was likely to be the only other young and unaccompanied woman in the opera house tonight and wholly uninterested in the performers on stage. Even when they had no reason to be, they found themselves connected in a way that others weren’t. 

Overhead, the house lights dimmed twice, signaling for members of the audience to take their seats and settle in. Eve finally caught a glimpse of Villanelle in the moments before the lights shut off at the start of the first act. She was beautiful, striking as always. She had reserved a box two from the right of Fidanza, though she hardly looked at him. Villanelle was alone, just as Eve had anticipated. 

There was something odd in the way Villanelle held herself. Eve had spent enough time with Villanelle to know the difference between the real Villanelle and a mask. She liked to try on other people’s lives like the designer clothes she wore. They were easily changed and easily removed once the pleasure of wearing them had worn off. Villanelle was playing someone else tonight, Eve wasn’t sure how she could tell. Something in her eyes maybe or the set of her jaw was off. 

She was wearing a dark red gown with a plunging neckline that stretched the bounds of the opera house’s conservative dress code. She wore it with confidence and style though, which allowed even the most traditional opera aficionado to forgive her minor transgression. Her red lipstick matched the color of her dress and set off a fire in her eyes. They glinted darkly even as she gazed down at the stage instead of at Eve or Antoni. 

When the house lights went down and a single spotlight illuminated the first performer on stage, Villanelle was robbed of her vibrant red. Eve was glad that both of her subjects were easy to see without the assistance of her opera glasses. Those round lenses would be harder to disguise when pointed in the wrong direction than her own wandering eyes. 

The opening notes of the opera startled Eve out of a short reverie and brought her attention back to the task at hand. She, Elena, and Kenny had discussed this thoroughly and come to the decision that their job tonight would be to prevent Antoni’s murder from taking place without coming into contact with Villanelle. The plan had a very low chance of success thanks to that restriction, but Eve knew it was necessary. Knowing who Villanelle was about to kill was a significant advantage. It brought them one step closer to stopping her and the Twelve. If either Villanelle or the Twelve knew that they had been able to intercept and decode one of their communications, that hard-won advantage would be lost. 

In some ways, that meant Eve was not the right person to go on this mission. By now she could admit to herself that she wanted to meet with Villanelle again more than anything. It was a flaw she tried to play down in front of her coworkers when she couldn’t keep it hidden. They knew she was obsessed, but she tried her best not to let that desire hinder their investigation. 

When it came to the choice between speaking with Villanelle again and saving Antoni’s life, she found her hesitancy to come to a decision startling. Of course Eve wanted to make sure that an innocent man didn’t lose his life, but he was a minor figure in a larger game. Eve, Elena, and Kenny had faced the fact that without interacting with Villanelle, their chances of stopping the assassination would be slim. When Eve had been assigned this mission, she had agreed to that caveat. She knew what was at stake. And yet…

Eve had come up with her own set of goals for tonight. Goals that Elena and Kenny had nothing to do with. Goals that, if everything went according to plan, Elena and Kenny never needed to know about.

First: Eve was going to save Antoni Fidanza’s life.  
Second: Eve was going to speak with Villanelle.  
Third: Eve was going to make sure no one ever found out about the second goal. 

She didn’t have a plan for how she was going to accomplish goal three, but she had made her decision. Eve had very little faith in the idea that Villanelle could be stopped indirectly. She wanted to save an innocent man. There had to be a way to intercept Villanelle and force her to keep it a secret. Perhaps the fact that she had been caught would be enough to embarrass her into silence. Would she really want the Twelve knowing that their indomitable assassin had been defeated? That, at least, was the logic Eve was working with. 

So Eve watch Villanelle watching the performance. She smiled at the man sitting next to her. Her date? He wore a well-trimmed brown beard and had charming wrinkles about his sparkling eyes. Villanelle linked her arm with his and leaned against him with a content sigh. Who was this man and what was Villanelle doing with him? 

Antoni and his model escort seemed to be enjoying the performance, at least, when Eve could tear her eyes away from Villanelle they seemed to be. Eve tried to rationalize that she didn’t need to keep watch over Antoni, he was no one. As long as she kept an eye on Villanelle at all times, she could step in if she seemed to be up to something suspicious. 

Eve couldn’t tell if Villanelle had noticed her yet. It would have been difficult from where Villanelle was seated. Eve would be a shadow on the wrong side of the spotlights to her, but Eve knew better than to put it past Villanelle. The boxes had some amount of privacy, but if you knew who to look for or you happened to be a hypervigilant assassin, they hid nothing. A young woman sitting on her own might draw the eye of anyone who happened to be looking. Perhaps that was why Villanelle had chosen not to come alone. 

The music drifted into something she recognized, something from a commercial or a movie. Eve couldn’t quite remember the name of the opera that was happening somewhere below them. She was certain they were doing a marvelous job on stage, but she had absolutely no attention to spare for them. Not even after several minutes, when Villanelle had still not made her move and both couples had clearly settled in for the act, did Eve’s attention shift down. In some ways, Eve was perfect for this mission. She wasn’t going to miss a thing Villanelle did. 

Part of this mission was to figure out how Villanelle worked, to get a front row seat to a professional murder. They needed to learn how she disguised herself, what aliases she used, what method. For too long she had gone under the radar. Tonight gave them more access to clues than ever before. They had a face and a name to go along with the killer and still she remained untouchable. Eve was there to gather everything she could. 

The first act of three ended with applause from the whole theater. The rippling red curtain closed and the grand chandelier lit up the room with gold light once again. People stood, some heading off to the powder room or to get a refreshment in between acts. Others stretched their legs in preparation for the two acts to follow. Many remained seated and chatted with their neighbors. Eve did the latter but with no one around her to talk to. Instead, she watched Villanelle without interruption.

Villanelle’s date excused himself from Villanelle’s side and left the box, likely headed to one of two destinations. Villanelle let him go with a kiss and turned her attention to her program. As far as Eve could tell, she hadn’t even looked at Antoni yet. It was enough to make Eve wonder if Villanelle was messing with her. Perhaps they had been set up… was Eve in danger?

Eve knew those thoughts were the result of her nerves finally starting to get the best of her. There was no reason to suspect that their information was anything but good. So far everything appeared to be in place: Antoni was here, Villanelle was here… Perhaps this was just how Villanelle did things. She waited until everyone’s guards were lowered, long enough to build some dramatic tension for herself before she swooped in to end it all. Eve just needed to get used to waiting. 

Watching Villanelle was almost like watching the reflection of a still pond. She played the part of a normal girl, a young woman in love, a tourist in a new city, with skillful ease. Eve knew the truth and so she waited for the flick of a fish’s tail, a gust of wind, or a raindrop from an oncoming storm to break the perfect glass of the water’s surface.

How could she hide so well? Even in moments like this where she was entirely alone. Eve wanted to go over there and shake her, pinch her, slap her, anything to make her break. To see those glassy eyes turn catlike and her pink lips twitch into a smirk. 

Eve took a deep breath and looked away from Villanelle for a moment. She needed to get a grip. 

The house lights flashed again. Villanelle’s date returned and the two couples were both seated in their boxes. Act two commenced and Eve found herself watching them again, fully craned around in her seat. She didn’t care. Who was going to watch her instead of the show? And if the answer to that question was Villanelle, Eve welcomed her attention. At this point, Eve was starting to crave any sort of action. 

A soprano on stage began to sing a chirpy aria Eve knew absolutely nothing about. Antoni seemed to smile sadly at whatever sentiment she was trying to express. Villanelle’s date looked as though he was enjoying himself but trying very hard not to fall asleep. Villanelle herself was as alert as ever. Eve noticed her smile when another soprano took center stage dressed in a tremendous black gown. 

The final intermission came just as Eve’s attention was beginning to flag. The show was almost over and nothing had happened. Villanelle hadn’t left her box once all night. Eve decided that now was the time to act. She was going to figure out what Villanelle was up to and she wasn’t going to wait until the final bow to do it.

Eve gathered her long skirt in her hand as she made her way up the staircase. This level was even more exclusive than Eve’s but she met no resistance on her way. The ushers assumed everyone was settled into their seats by now and were off on their phones, reading the paper, and tending to the lines at the bathrooms. No one stopped Eve as she counted off the doors to the opera boxes and found the one she was looking for. 

She paused just outside the door. Was she really about to go through with this? Disregard everything Elena and Kenny had told her and risk everything? 

Eve knew what her answer was. She had made it all the way to the door. She thought it was important to have one last moment to reconsider before diving right in. 

The handle gave away in her hand, opening the door without resistance. Eve felt like it should have been harder to gain access to Villanelle, but there was always the chance that Villanelle had been expecting her. 

Villanelle was alone in the box. Her arm dangled over the armrest and her feet were propped up over the railing. Her date must have left while Eve climbed the stairs. Villanelle didn’t respond to the sound of the door opening and Eve wondered if she might have caught her by surprise. Perhaps she thought her date had returned and she didn’t bother to check. 

Eve padded behind Villanelle’s chair quietly. There was something thrilling about finally being able to surprise Villanelle and she desperately wanted to see shock coloring Villanelle’s features. 

The floorboards creaked beneath her heels. By now it was impossible for Villanelle not to register the presence of someone else in the private box. She craned her elegant neck to look at Eve and smiled lightly at her. Eve was incredibly disappointed by the lack of surprise she found on Villanelle’s face.

“Oh, hi, Eve,” Villanelle said lightly, as though Eve was her date who had just returned from the bar. “Enjoying the show?”

“I won’t let you kill him, Villanelle.” Eve thought she sounded more serious when she used Villanelle’s name, like a stern teacher reprimanding a child. “I know why you’re here and I won’t let it happen this time.”

“This is what I do, Eve. I get a name and I do my job.”

“Who gives you the names?” 

Villanelle’s smile widened. “You’re not going to get anything out of me.”

“Maybe that’s because you know about as much as I do.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re afraid to ask me nicely,” Villanelle pouted. 

Eve frowned. What on earth did she mean? 

“I like this,” Villanelle continued, amused by Eve’s confusion. “No one’s ever tried to stop me before. It’s fun. You get so close and I’m still going to win.” Eve scowled, about to interrupt when Villanelle moved on. “Have you been here the whole time? I caught you just before the end of the first act, but were you here waiting for me?”

Eve wasn’t sure what Villanelle was getting at, with her singsong voice and the Cheshire cat grin she was attempting to subdue. She decided to ignore her. “So what was your plan for tonight? Catch him after the performance and bring him down somewhere private? Poison dart gun? Rifle with a silencer? Pushing him from the balcony?”

Villanelle shrugged languidly. Eve knew that any response to that question would have been a longshot, but she thought she had to try. 

“I needed to wait for the right inspiration.”

Eve folded her arms. “You didn’t have any plan when you got here?” Villanelle always seemed meticulous. She had never been seen before, let alone spoken to. Eve refused to believe that there wasn’t an incredible amount of planning behind each kill.

“I’m full of ideas, but you can never put too much faith in plans. You never know how things might change at the drop of a hat.” The expression sounded foreign on her tongue. “Besides, I’m very good at my job. I’ve had lots of practice.”

Eve knew from studying serial killers that narcissism was a common trait among them. Villanelle was rarely stereotypical, even in this. Her boasts were charming, like most psychopaths, but unlike them, Villanelle always seemed to be flirting when she talked about herself. She wanted Eve to be impressed by her, needed to her to be, because she was intrigued by Eve. 

“What was your plan?” asked Villanelle. She seemed to know the answer already. “I was surprised to see you sitting down there. What did you hope to get from tonight?”

Eve tried to hold her head high. She wasn’t about to be mocked. “I already told you. I’m here to stop you from killing Antoni Fidanza.”

“That’s it? Seems like a poor excuse to leave London, but then, I’d take Italian sunshine over English thunderstorms any day.”

Their eyes met and Villanelle seemed to be challenging her, daring her to admit something else. Eve wasn’t about to take the bait. 

Villanelle stood from her reclined position, her long, dark dress sweeping low across the floor. She had taken off her heels, Eve realized when they were standing face to face and Eve had to look down at her. 

“Stopping a murder is the only reason you’re here tonight? There isn’t anything else?” With each question, she took another step forward. She didn’t trip or stumble over her skirt as Eve might have done. Villanelle looked just as commanding as ever. Eve tried to hold her ground but found herself backing up in small steps without even thinking. 

“No,” said Eve. Villanelle was so close now, they were almost touching. She tried in vain to pitch her voice lower, to sound steady and capable when she definitely didn’t feel it. “No, why would there be?”

“Do you want to know what I think?” asked Villanelle. Her hands were careful not to touch Eve, placing them instead on the wall behind her. Eve found that odd given that they were almost chest to chest by now. “I think you wanted to see me tonight and that’s the only reason you’re here.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” The words sounded false even to Eve. 

“No? Then why risk everything to see me, Eve? I almost thought you wouldn’t come, you had such self-control watching from a private box. And now you’re here. Your friends wouldn’t like it if they knew where you were would they?”

Eve wasn’t sure how she knew about Elena and Kenny, part of her suspected that she didn’t know as much as she let on. Still, the thought of Villanelle knowing anything about her sent shivers down her spine. 

“Spying on me?” Eve asked. A laugh was caught in her throat and didn’t reach her lips. She couldn’t quite meet Villanelle’s eye. 

“I’m sad to say that I haven’t spent as much time spying on you as you have on me, but there’s always time to fix that.”

Villanelle leaned in and Eve could have sworn that the woman was going to kiss her. Her breath was hot along Eve’s neck. Eve’s eyes closed, anticipating it. But Villanelle stopped herself and pulled back. She looked Eve directly in the eye. 

“I want to kiss you,” she said and somehow Eve was surprised by how forward that sounded. A moment ago, she wouldn’t have been surprised if Villanelle had just leaned in and done it, but to be told her desires, to be asked for permission in an oblique way, felt dangerous. It was up to Eve now, to do what she had come here to door to run away.

Eve gaped, wordless but managed to nod tersely. Yes. She wanted that too. 

Villanelle stepped forward and closed the distance between them. Eve was surprised when chin lifted up to meet her lips. She hadn’t realized Villanelle was taller. Eve’s mind was snagged on that small detail while she failed to accept the rest of her reality. She was kissing Villanelle. Slow, eyes closed, soft touches, kissing. 

If Eve had imagined this encounter, and she had late at night when her inhibitions were low, she imagined one of them slamming the other against a wall, hands holding the other’s head still, and kissing them senseless. There was teeth and spit and lipstick everywhere.

But that wasn’t this. Hardly a sound came from their opera box. The soft smack of lips parting and the hiss of quick gasps were nothing compared to the murmurings of the crowd seated around them. 

Eve was surprised by Villanelle’s restraint. So surprised, Eve broke away first and stared up at her. Eve’s brown eyes were round and questioning. What were they doing here? What was this?

Villanelle stared back taking in Eve’s expression and leaving the questions unanswered, waiting to see what Eve was going to do.

Well, if they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. 

With her hands on Villanelle’s shoulders, Eve turned them both around and pressed Villanelle up against the wall. Villanelle’s eyes widened for a moment before she grinned. Just like a dream, Eve held Villanelle’s face in her hands and kissed her hard. There was teeth and a sharp bark of laughter from Villanelle, but it was better than anything Eve could have imagined. 

Villanelle twisted her fingers in the dark hair she adored. Eve knew immediately that she liked it. She twined her leg around Villanelle in an effort to get closer somehow. She was grinding her hips like a teenager in an incredibly expensive dress and she did not care one bit. 

Villanelle’s hands settled on Eve’s hips as they paused for a breath. Both of them were breathing hard as the lights dimmed once, twice. It was time for the final act.

“We’d better get to our seats,” murmured Villanelle. She guided Eve to the two chairs. Eve wasn’t sure what Villanelle was playing at, did she want them to watch the end of the opera together? Did either of them really care what was happening on stage? Eve had another idea. 

She lifted the skirt of her dress in order to kneel down on the floor. The whole world looked different from down here. She looked up to Villanelle, asking permission, and Villanelle shifted her legs apart, granting it. 

The diaphanous fabric of the skirt’s fabric lifted easily up to reveal Villanelle’s waist. It was surprisingly heavy for chiffon and silk.

“These are lovely,” said Eve, gesturing to the clearly bespoke black panties lined with fine gold thread. 

“Thank you,” said Villanelle, slipping them off. Eve thought she heard a bit of a native accent in her English and wondered if it slipped out when she was distracted. 

When Eve put her mouth to Villanelle, she didn’t worry about leaving lipstick stains. Villanelle pulled at her hair, urging her on. Eve felt as though she controlled Villanelle from here. When she flicked her tongue Villanelle gasped. When she moved her fingers like this Villanelle moaned. Her breathing quickened. She had started to sweat. Eve could taste her. 

Villanelle likely got off on the fact that she was sitting tall above Eve now. She had Eve precisely where she wanted her and was loving it. 

Their modesty was in Villanelle’s hands. She knew that she was out of sight of most of their fellow audience members, but any sound Villanelle made had the potential to give them away. The danger of it was exciting, especially with Villanelle so close to falling apart. 

Eve pulled away for a moment to get a look at Villanelle’s face. She had to know what the woman looked like in moments like this, with no one else to see and her mind consumed by her own pleasure. 

Her pale cheeks were flushed. Her face looked dewy. Her breast rose and fell. Her head was tossed back against her seat and a spiral of hair had fallen out of place from her delicate chignon. She was a work of art. Eve was lost in the sight of her until Villanelle caught her the act. 

“Go on then,” she urged and Eve was only happy to comply.

Villanelle bit her lip to keep from shouting, coming down with hitching breaths. Eve captured her open mouth in hers, slick and wet from between Villanelle’s legs. 

“You were so good,” said Eve. Villanelle was too breathless to do anything but nod. “I should go.” Villanelle nodded once again.

“I’ll be watching you,” continued Eve. “I won’t let you kill him.”

“Is that all this was to you? A distraction?”

“I think you know that’s not true,” said Eve with a quirked brow. “But it was part of it. Every minute I keep you occupied is another minute Antoni stays alive.”

Eve lingered by the door, unsure if there was anything that needed to be said. When she made the decision to go, Villanelle said something that left her cold.

“Are you sure about that?”

Eve ran from Villanelle’s box out into the empty corridor. Antoni Fidanza’s bodyguard still stood watch outside Fidanza’s box, but what if he didn’t know? What if he was watching over a dead man and Villanelle had already gotten the best of her?

“I need to get in there,” Eve demanded the bodyguard. He looked down at her impassively. “I need to see if he’s okay.”

The bodyguard muttered something Eve couldn’t understand and shifted his gaze from her, as though she wasn’t worth his time. 

Perhaps he only spoke Italian. That would be Eve’s luck. “A-aprire,” Eve tried, struggling to find any words that might help her. “La porta… por favor.”

Eve decided to cut her losses and make a break for the door. The bored bodyguard didn’t stand a chance as she darted past him, seized the doorknob, and raced inside. 

At first glance, everything appeared fine. Antoni was seated, watching the opera, everything was fine. Then the scene began to unravel. He should have heard the commotion at the door. His head lolled at an odd angle. His hand hung limp over the arm of his chair. This was all wrong. 

Eve ran to his side. She begged his wrist for a pulse but found nothing. He was dead and this was all her fault. 

On his hand, she noticed the mark of a lipstick kiss pressed delicately to the back. On the floor was a discarded handkerchief with the rest of the makeup wiped off on it. 

Antoni’s date for the night was found collapsed behind a curtain. Unconscious but alive. Eve read in the papers a few days later that Antoni had been shot at range with a dart gun, while it was suspected someone else had entered to take care of the date. Eve felt sick as she read that, knowing exactly who and how the murder had been carried out.

Kenny and Elena greeted her solemnly when she returned to the office. The whole evening was a nasty business, but Eve had done exactly what she had set out to do. 

Throughout their debriefing, Eve looked forward to the next encounter she and Villanelle would have. Next time, for sure, she was going to make sure things went her way.


End file.
